The Quiet Redemption of Draco Malfoy
by Astrid M. Blackcoat
Summary: Draco can't sleep- mostly because everyone wants to kill him.
1. Darkness and Green

**The Quiet Redemption of Draco Malfoy**

The bed was empty. These days it always was; sleep had forsaken its previous inhabitant, dancing tantalisingly before his eyes, only to fly away when he reached for it. The dark, twisted creatures that plagued the few hours of sleep he had managed to snatch here and there had served to stop him even trying to catch the few hours he had survived on. Now he kept an alert face on through continual cups of black coffee from the house elves in the kitchens. He had bribed an impressionable one to supply him with them on as regular a basis as was possible without attracting attention.

Let's just say Draco Malfoy wasn't the world's sanest boy. He was pretty messed up.

Gods, how he hated that room; its green hangings taunting him, hinting at his fate if one of the boys asleep behind each curtain were to find out about him, how he'd betrayed them.

Death.

He almost longed for it, now. Or if he could get some hotheaded Gryffindor to knock him out, maybe the pain would ease for a while. Possibly a Weasley? If he could anger the Gryffindor enough to have them put him out for a few days, he might be energised enough to carry on his act.

The dreams came back to him in mind-bending detail; the pain, the dark, the cold, _'Do it again, boy, you're getting it_', the strange faces dirty and twisted in pain and begging for mercy, _'Please, no, not again, please god no...._'

Draco dropped his head into his hands. I can't go on doing this, he thought. I've got to do something. But what? Go to Dumbledore? If he did that, the headmaster might cast him out for the things he'd done. He would deserve it. Deserve every minute of the torture Voldemort would inflict on him for what he'd done, or rather, what he'd refused to do.

And what would the Wonder Trio, Potter and his little friends, do when they found out? Even if Dumbledore convinced them that Draco was fighting for the side of good, they would never forgive him for the insults he'd flung at them over the past four years. Hatred can take a lifetime to dispel. If they would ever listen, which he strongly doubted, they wouldn't believe his apologies, or that he was simply following in his father's footsteps. But still, he couldn't go on spending his nights awake, making sure no one got a chance to finish off Voldemort's job for him. He had to go to Dumbledore. For the first time in his spoilt, pointless life, Draco Malfoy wanted, desperately wanted, to fight against the darkness. To put things right.

In Dumbledore's office, Fawkes the phoenix began to sing.

Yes, it's very short. The next chapter will be longer, I promise. Please review, as it makes me happy.


	2. Conversation and Redemption

Malfoy stood in front of the gargoyle guarding Dumbledore's office. 'Erm…. He usually uses sweets for passwords, doesn't he…? Um… Sugar quill? Chocolate Frog? Drooble's Best Blowing Gum? Ice Mice? Pumpkin Pastie? Cauldron Cake? Liquorice Wand? Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans?' Suddenly the gargoyle leapt aside. 'Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans?' he repeated in amazement.

'I would never use that password on my room's guardian, Draco,' said Dumbledore, who had been standing behind the gargoyle. 'I have a somewhat ingrained aversion to them. Please,' he smiled, blue eyes twinkling, 'Come in.'

Draco walked down the stairs to the headmaster's office. 'Sit down,' said Dumbledore, seating himself at his desk. 'Tea?'

'Er, yes, thanks. Black, no sugar.'

'Certainly.' Dumbledore waved a hand and a gleaming silver tray appeared on the desk, laden with a pot, two cups, milk and sugar. He poured them each a cup, putting milk and sugar in him before handing Draco's to him. 'Tell me what's on your mind.'

'Er, you see, Professor… over the summer, Voldemort came to stay at Malfoy Mansion. Father wanted to train me to be… well, to be a Death Eater. He drilled me in hexes of all kind and the Unforgivable Curses, especially…' Draco took a sip of tea and bit his lip. Then he sighed. 'Especially the Cruciatus curse. Finally, two weeks before term started, they came to me, tried to make me accept the Dark Mark. I, I…. Just couldn't do it, sir. I couldn't do it again.'

Dumbledore leant forward, his eyes no longer twinkling. His expression was a mix of worry and pride. 'You resisted the Mark? What then?'

'I ran, basically. I ran to my room, threw everything in my trunk and Apparated away. He - my father - taught me several years ago,' Draco explained, seeing the look on Dumbledore's face. 'He wanted me to be perfect when Voldemort rose again. Over the summer I'd been collecting money, telling him I wanted things from Diagon Alley, putting the money into my Gringotts vault and pretending I 'd bought what I had wanted. By the time he finally got around to getting me to take the Mark I had a lot, as well as the money I already had, so I went to Diagon Alley. He came for me at the Leaky Cauldron, but I got away. For the last two weeks of holidays I stayed in a cheap hotel, living on money I made working for a Muggle record store and busking after work and on my lunch breaks.'

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow at him. He shrugged. 'Mother made me learn the piano and the violin. I'm rather good. A few people offered me money, but to get it I would have had to lose every last scrap of dignity I'd managed to scrape together, if you know what I mean.' Dumbledore nodded silently. Draco sipped his tea, and continued. 

'I bought my school supplies with my wizard gold and came to school as though nothing was wrong. Crabbe and Goyle don't know because they can't really read all that well. I told them the letters from their parents just said normal stuff, how are your classes going, that sort of thing. They haven't suspected yet, but as for the rest, I'm only still alive because I don't sleep any more. Ever.'

Dumbledore sat back. His face sagged. 'So it is true,' he said heavily. 'There are young Death Eaters once more at Hogwarts.'

'And it's not just Slytherins, either,' said Draco. 'There's some Hufflepuffs, some Ravenclaws, and even a few Gryffindors. Most think the Slytherins are the only darklings around here.' The pale boy smiled bitterly.

'That much is clear,' sighed Dumbledore. 'However. You cannot stay in Slytherin, or you will die. You must be re-Sorted.'

Draco's eyebrows flew up. 'ReSorted?'

'Yes.' Dumbledore gestured with the teapot. 'More tea?' Draco nodded. The silver-haired headmaster poured them each another cup. This time, however, Draco spooned two teaspoons of sugar into his. Dumbledore smiled tiredly at him before resuming his trail of thought.

'Yu cannot stay there, Draco. It will do you no good. I wonder- where do you think the Hat will place you?'

Draco sighed, running his fingers through his hair. 'I don't know. I'm not clever enough to be in Ravenclaw, I'm not hardworking enough to be in Hufflepuff and I'm certainly not a Gryffindor.'

'Why do you say that, Draco?'

'There are many names I could mention, Professor. Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Ginny Weasley, Neville Longbottom...' The blonde boy trailed off. He heaved a sigh. 'If they could get me alone they'd rip me to pieces. I don't blame them.' He laughed hollowly. 'I've insulted them so many times, played so many tricks, the fights we've had. No. I deserve the things Voldemort's going to do to me. So,' he said briskly. 'When should I start packing?'

Dumbledore, who had just raised his teacup to his lips, placed it back on the desk. 'Mr Malfoy, what on earth do you mean?'

Draco looked up at him. 'But... you're not kicking me out?'

Dumbledore chuckled. 'No, Draco, I'm not. Did you honestly believe I would willingly leave you alone in the wizarding world to be killed Voldemort's men? If you wish to die, I will send you back to the Slytherin Tower where you may pack and leave straight after breakfast. However, should you wish to live, I can arrange a bed for you until the Resorting, which will take place tomorrow. Then, tomorrow night, I intend to call the Wonder Trio, as I believe they are known these days,' said Dumbledore, eyes twinkling once more, 'and yourself to my office and have a talk with you all. When that's done, we see if the Wonder Trio don't become the Wonder Quartet.'

Draco stared, open-mouthed, at the headmaster. He smiled. 'And now, I think it's time you got some rest. Being awake for so long must take amazing amounts of energy.' He pulled out his wand. 'Cubicula!' A bed appeared next to the wall, freshly turned down, with a set of pyjamas laid out on the covers. Draco blinked at him, dazedly. 'Thank you, Professor,' he stuttered. He ran his fingers through his hair again, and looked up at the headmaster again. 'If I don't sleep in it, it's nothing personal.'

'If you have trouble sleeping, there's a special potion Professor Snape makes for dreamless sleep in the third drawer down in my desk. I don't expect you'll need it. Should you wake early, feel free to browse the bookshelves. There is a wealth of fascinating information to be found in this room.' With that, he nodded and turned to go through the door to his quarters.

Draco watched him go. 'Thank you, Professor. Good night.'

Dumbledore turned back and looked at the pale, willowy boy standing in front of his desk. He smiled benignly. 'Goodnight, Draco. Sleep well.'

There! Done. I hope you liked it. Remember- reviews keep me writing!


End file.
